Edie did not want Dr Bennett to leave. They stood on the wharf as the wind blew salt into their faces, as gulls screeched their ugly goodbyes.
‘We can’t stay still, Edie,’ Dr Bennett said, touching her arm. ‘We must pursue every opportunity. Create it for ourselves. The New Zealand Army may not welcome women but the Croix Rouge does.’
Edie wanted to cry. What if she never came back?
Dr Bennett gave her a robust hug. ‘Have you read The Merchant of Venice?’ she asked. ‘Bassanio chooses the leaden casket over the silver or gold. Do you know what is inside?’
Edie nodded. ‘Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.’
Dr Bennett smiled. ‘Yes.’ She held Edie by the shoulders, looked at her intently. ‘Never forget that, Edie. You must have the courage to give and hazard all. You must be prepared to withstand the deepest disappointment, frustration, exasperation . . .
‘Oh, Edie, it’s not as excruciating as it sounds. Not all the time!’ She laughed. ‘You are allowed fun too, you know, but,’ and now she was very serious, ‘intelligence of the brain is not enough. If you want to fulfil your dreams, you will have to work relentlessly. At least twice as hard as any man. You must find within yourself the necessary determination, the will and the wisdom. And you must also cultivate intelligence of the heart.
‘Write to me, my dear, and I’ll do my best to write back – though you must realise that mail at the Front can be unreliable.’
Dr Bennett gave Edie another hug. She held her, stroked her back. ‘My mother died when I was very young, Edie. I felt so alone. But you have Mrs Newman. You still have your mother.’
Edie watched the ship slip its moorings and slowly move out into the harbour. From Sydney, Dr Bennett would sail through the Suez Canal and on to the Middle East. To who knows what? Who knows where?
How could she be so certain? So unafraid?
Edie watched the ship disappear. She remembered the caskets.